


A little of this, a little of that

by Zorro_sci



Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), others - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Drabbles, Emotions, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, a little of everything, bonus round, shipping games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 15,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2296574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zorro_sci/pseuds/Zorro_sci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I'm participating in the Marvel Shipping games.  Here are my drabbles from the bonus round.  They are of various ships and qualities, (I am not the most comfortable writing outside of my ship), and I am more proud of some than others, but I decided to share with those of you who are interested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clint/Natasha Robin Hood

Warning: action violence, and threats of violence

Clint went to the archery tournament knowing it was likely a trap. His right hand man, Phil, and all his other loyal SHIELD agents had tried to warn him. Even Dr. Banner, the physician/Buddhist monk the group of agents turned to for shelter and advisement, had told him not to go. But Clint was the best archer there was! He never missed! He couldn't turn down an opportunity to show his prowess with a bow. Especially not when the hand of Lady Natasha hung in the balance.

Clint had long admired the fiery redhead. Since he had first met her while in the court of King Thor during one of their victory feasts, he couldn't get her off his mind. The thought that another could win her hand was unbearable. He had to compete. He had to win. He had no other choice. Even if the whole tournament was a trap created by Prince Loki and Sheriff Stane. All the more reason, if they were vile enough to use the fair Natasha as bait. He couldn't let her stay under their control.

So Clint walked into the arena disguised as an old man. He signed the register under a false name, and took his mark. Then he waited for the gong, and fired his arrow at the target in front of him.

After the first shot the field of contenders was reduced for twenty to ten. Then remaining competitors prepared their next shot, and then fired once more when the gong sounded again. This time five more were eliminated, and five remained. 

After the next round, only Clint and one other competitor remained. Both of them had shot a perfect Bull's-eye each time. Clint wondered who the other could be. As far as he knew, there was no other marksman who matched his skill. Still, he pushed the thought out of his head as they cast lots to see who would go first.

Clint was picked to go first, so he stepped up to the line, and loosed an arrow at the target. It flew true and hit in the center of the Bull's-eye. The crowd cheered, and Clint took a bow.

Then Clint's competitor took his mark. As he moved, Clint heard the telltale rattle of gears. Of course! Dr. Banner had warned him that there was talk of Sheriff Stane kidnapping the town inventor and threatening to cut out his heart if he didn't build him a robot. He must have built him an archery robot. One that couldn't miss!

Sure enough, the other loosed his arrow and it split Clint's clean down the shaft. Now Clint needed to do the near impossible to win. He needed to split the robot's arrow.

Clint took his mark, and took a deep breath. Then he let his arrow fly, and with a _crack!_ it split the other arrow down the middle. Clint was declared victor, and all of the people cheered!

But their cheers were cut short, when Stane stood and cried, "That old man is the villainous Clint Barton! He's a thief and enemy to the crown!"

"Who is this Clint Barton?" Clint tried to dismiss, but Stane walked over and removed his disguise.

The crowd gasped.

"Guards, seize him!" ordered Prince Loki.

Several armed guards ran towards Clint. He did his best to hold them off, but there were too many of them. They restrained him by his arms and took his bow.

"That's enough!" called Lady Natasha.

Suddenly, the maid sprung into action. She lashed out with arms and legs in graceful combat until all of the guards were on the ground. Then she grabbed Clint's hand and the pair ran from the tournament field as fast as they could.

"What was that?!?" Clint asked as they ran.

"Did you ever think I was really a damsel in distress?!?" Natasha asked raising an eyebrow at him.

"Well . . No, but I didn't know you were that badass," he said in surprised.

"Well, now you know," she said with a smirk. "And I'm perfectly capable of choosing my own husband."

"Of course," Clint agreed, trying to hide his disappointment, but apparently failing based on the look on Natasha's face.

"I choose you, you idiot," she said rolling her eyes. "Why else would I take out the entire royal guard?"

"Oh," Clint said dumbly.

Then she grabbed him, and pulled him into a passionate kiss. There was no doubt. She was the most amazing woman in all of the land.


	2. Loki/Tony Wizard of Oz

Tony held tightly to the door frame as the hotel spun around in the tornado. Brucie barked from the bed as the building flew higher and higher.

"Hold on, Brucie!" he called.

Then, suddenly, the wind died and the house landed. He walked out and saw the house surrounded by people wearing black uniforms with some sort of bird logo.

"Who are you?!?" A man with an eye patch demanded.

"I'm Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Who are you?" Tony asked in annoyance at the man's rude tone.

"I'm Director Fury, of SHIELD. You are in the land of SHIELD agents," the man replied.

"How did I get here? I was at a hotel in Kansas. Then there was a tornado, and now . . . I'm in some wacky land filled with what looks like a bunch of shady government types," Tony griped.

His dog ran to his side, and barked his agreement, growling slightly at the Director.

"What's wrong with your dog?" a woman with dark hair and a tight black leather uniform asked.

"He doesn't like government types," Tony answered. "They make him nervous. . . Actually, I don't either. Now, how do I get out of here?"

"Such things are above our pay grade," Fury answered, "but your house fell on The Destroyer that the evil trickster god Loki sent to kill us all, so I guess we owe you. There is tell that there is a wise man, a wizard, in the Emerald City. Perhaps he can help you get home."

"A wizard?!? Really?!? You expect me to believe a wizard, as in magic and spells, can help me?!?" Tony said in disbelief.

Brucie groaned and shook his furry head.

Fury was about to protest when a blue light appeared and suddenly Loki stood in front of them.

"Who dares defy me! Who ruined my plans! Who defeated The Destroyer!" Loki called angrily.

"Umm. . . That would be me," Tony said defiantly.

Brucie nodded along in satisfaction.

"You! I'll destroy you! I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too!" Loki snarked.

Brucie growled and turned into a large green dog that was as big as a horse.

"No so little anymore," Tony commented. "He doesn't like to be threatened. Or called little. . . .and if you wanted me . . Just ask. I'll try anything once. Dating an evil summoner of Destroyers wouldn't be the worst thing I've ever done."

Then to everyone's surprise, Tony winked at Loki.

The action had the angry god spluttering. He'd never seen such a bold action before. It was infuriating, but also a bit of a turn-on.

"I'll pick you up at eight," the trickster said.

Brucie snarled, but Tony quieted him.

"It's okay, Brucie. Okay, Loki, you've got yourself a date," Tony said.

With that, Loki left, and all the agents of SHIELD scratched their heads. What had just happened? Well, whatever it was, they hoped it wouldn't lead to more destruction.


	3. Loki/Tony Grinch Who Stole Christmas

Once upon time they say  
There was a grump who hated Christmas Day.  
Loki was the name of the bitter frost giant  
Who cursed Christmas with his eyes defiant,  
and lived in a cave above the town of Who-ville  
And frowned at the season of peace and good will.  
All alone he lived up there  
With only his dog Thor in his evil lair.  
Among ice was his home chosen  
Because his heart was cold and frozen.

"Bah-humbug!" He said.  
"I wish Christmas was dead!  
I hate the carols and I hate the lights  
And I hate the presents on Christmas night!  
I hate the feasting and I hate the joy!  
I hate the hopes of each girl and boy!  
I wish Christmas would go away!  
Oh how I hate Christmas Day!"

The Whos however, loved Christmas best,  
They always had a big holiday fest  
Where every who-girl and every who-boy  
Ran around town singing songs of joy.  
This Loki hated most of all,  
Their singing drove him up a wall.

As Christmas neared he grew in his anger.  
That's never good folks, it's full of danger.  
He decided to steal Christmas Day,  
By taking all their present and decorations away.  
So Christmas Eve he snuck into town,  
And took every sign of Christmas down.  
He stole the light and stole the trees,  
He stole the food and set the reindeer free.  
He took each thing that was happy or merry,  
He took each thing his sled could carry.  
Then he left town with an evil smirk,  
Thinking he had done good work.

The next day when the Whos awoke  
They found their decorations gone and their ornaments broke.  
But they didn't let that spoil their day  
they gathered in the center of town and sang anyway!  
Loki heard this and let out a growl  
They were still happy so his mood was foul.

He ran into town his angry great,  
He yelled, "why do you still celebrate?!?  
Your trees are gone! You have no feast!  
Yet you all sing from greatest to least!  
There are no presents, not a single toy!  
Not even for one who-girl or one who-boy!  
How can you be happy?!? How can you sing?!?  
There's no sign of Christmas! Not a single thing!"

"We celebrate because we can!"  
Answered the Who-ville handy man.  
"We are all alive! We all are here!  
We have each other, and our loved ones near!  
Is that not enough to celebrate?  
Join us! Let go of your hate!"

 

"Who are you?" Loki asked his tone vile.

"I'm Tony," said the handy man with a smile.

With that smile Loki felt  
That his heart began to melt.  
When he met Tony's eye  
He felt happy, but didn't know why.

"Come," said Tony, "Take my hand!  
Sing with every Who throughout the land!  
Join us in our song of joy!  
Then help me build each child a toy!"

Loki felt he must comply,  
Tony made him want to try.  
So to Tony's side he went,  
And joined his hand with the handy gent.

When they touched it made Loki feel  
Joy, happiness and a love that was real.  
And from that love he sang and sang  
He sang as snow fell and Christmas bells rang.  
No longer did he sneer or hate,  
He'd found his true love, and he felt great!  
He celebrated Christmas Day with joy and laughter,  
And lived with Tony ever after.


	4. Bucky/Natasha/Sam/Steve once Upon a Time

"Where are we?" Sam asked as he came-to.

Of course, Natasha, Steve and Bucky were all already alert and awake.

"You're aboard the Jolly Roger, mate," a man with a hook for a hand, who looked like a pirate, said as he walked into the low ceiling room.

"Leave the talking to me, Hook," a tall, dashing blond man said.

He looked a little like Steve, or a prince out of a fairy tale.

"Why should I listen to you, Charming?" 'Hook' shot back angrily.

Wait . . .'Hook' . . .'Charming?'

"They're fairy tale creatures," Sam commented in disbelief.

"We can hear you, we're right over here, mate. And I object to being called a creature. We're as human as you are . . .that is, assuming you're human," the pirate said.

"We're human," Steve said simply. "We're not quite sure how we got here. One minute we were flying into an electrical storm. Now we're on some sort of pirate ship."

"Why were you flying into an electrical storm?" the one called 'Charming' asked.

"We were trying to stop Amora the Enchantress from destroying New York City," Sam said.

"Wait . . Amora the Enchantress . . .like from the comic books," Charming said. 

He looked at Steve, took in the uniform with a sweeping glance and said, "You're Captain America. And you must be the Winter Soldier, and Black Widow, and Falcon."

He pointed to each of them in turn and gaped, "You guys really exist?"

"Do you really have any room to talk, Prince Charming?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

"She has a point, mate," Hook said, slinging an arm over Charming's shoulder.

"I already told you. I'm not your mate," the prince said testily.

"What's taking so long?" an impatient female voice called.

Two dark-haired women, one with an angry scowl and shoulder length hair, and the other innocent looking with a pixie cut came into the room. They were followed by another woman with long, blonde hair.

"Who are they?" the scowling woman asked flatly.

"America's Captain, Spider Lady, Bird Guy and Soldier Man or something like that," Hook dismissed.

"Captain America, Black Widow, Falcon and the Winter Soldier," the woman with the pixie cut said in awe.

"Who?" the blond asked.

"They're super heroes. Henry and the other children in my class loved to read about them. I didn't realize they were real," pixie cut answered.

"Well if you're Snow White, and we're on a flying pirate ship with Captain Hook, Rumplestiltskin, and the Evil Queen, why not?" the blond woman said.

"Watch who you call evil," the impatient woman, who was apparently the evil queen, warned.

"What are they doing here?" the queen asked after a bit.

"We got lost," Sam said.

"Great, we've somehow managed to pick up more strays. This time from some comic book land . . .look, we have enough trouble. We're looking for my son, and we don't have any time for distractions. That goes for all of you. If you even think of getting between me and my son . ." the queen threatened.

"He's Emma's son, too," the woman who was Snow White if Sam's memory served him, interrupted.

"Look, your precious little daughter might have given birth to him, but I raised him. She was never there. I spent nine years caring for him, and legally I'm his mother," the queen countered.

"Of course you're his mother, Regina, but I care about him too. Isn't that why we're all working together? Because we all care about Henry?" the blond, who Sam figured must be Emma, intervened.

"Exactly. He's our grandson . . .and oddly enough, he's Rumplestiltskin's grandson too. We all want Henry back. So we need to find a way to work together," Snow White soothed.

"And what about the pirate? What's his interest in all of this?" the queen asked suspiciously.

"Henry's father lived with me for many years in Neverland. He was almost like a son to me. Anything I can do to honor his memory I do gladly," Hook contributed.

Sam's head was spinning from the influx of information. Best he could tell Emma was Snow and Charming's daughter, even though they all appeared to be about the same age. Then the evil queen, who if he remembered the story of Snow White correctly, was Snow White's stepmother, was apparently the adopted mother of Emma's biological son. Meaning her son was also her step great-grandson. And if Rumplestiltskin was also a grandparent to this kid, his son must be his father, and then apparently Hook had been a step father of sorts to Rumplestiltskin's son, making him like a step-grandfather to Henry, the kid they were looking for . . .plus, by the way Hook was looking at Emma, he was also interested in the boy's mother, which was weird since he was a surrogate father to the father of her child.

"And you thought two lovers who became super soldiers and were preserved seventy years, only to have one brain-washed by Russians before he fell in love with a Russian assassin who turned good and fell in love with the other super soldier after he thawed and fell in love with a super hero shrink before they all got together in a polyamorous relationship was confusing," Sam muttered to his lovers. "We've got nothing on their twisted family tree."


	5. Harry/Peter Toy Story

"Welcome to Andy's room," Woody, a cowboy doll, said to Peter.

The young boy, Andy he guessed, had brought him into a room with a large bed and left him on top of it. Then as soon as the child had left, all of the toys had started moving. They seemed curious about Peter's presence, and quickly gathered around him.

"Woody, who's the new action figure?" an action figure who looked like a weaponized astronaut asked.

"I haven't had the chance to ask yet, Buzz," the cowboy, (Woody, Peter told himself), replied.

"Sorry," he said turning his attention back to Peter. "I'm Woody, and he's Buzz. What's your name."

"I'm Peter," he replied.

"Nice to meet you Peter," the astronaut, Buzz, welcomed.

All of the toys gathered around him and greeted him pleasantly. There were a lot of them, and it was hard to keep them all straight. Then, one toy in the back of the group caught his eye. He wasn't sure why, but he was drawn to him.

"Hi, I'm Peter. I'm the new action figure, I guess," he said as he approached the plastic man with dark brown hair and a nice suit.

"I'm Harry. Lots of people mistake me for a Ken doll, but I'm not," he said.

Peter wasn't sure what a Ken doll was, but Harry seemed offended by the comparison, so he didn't ask.

"How long have you been in Andy's room?" he asked, trying to start a conversation.

"I'm actually one of Sally's toys. She's Andy's little sister, and her room's next door. But when I heard there was a new toy, I wanted to check it out," the doll replied.

"That's a shame," Peter said. "I was hoping I'd see a lot of you."

"You just might," Harry said conspiratorially. "You just might."


	6. Clint/Natasha Treasure Planet

She was infuriating, that's what she was, Clint thought to himself. Her, with he skin tight catsuit, and her superior air . . . That Captain Romanov might be in charge of the ship, but Clint had hired her, so technically she worked for him! 

He and Peter hadn't been on the ship all of five minutes and she was already bossing him around, criticizing the crew he hired for the ship, and mocking him. Sure, maybe he hadn't traveled in a ship before, and maybe he had hired the cheapest workers possible without doing a background check, but he was far from new to the galaxy. There was no call to treat him like an imbecile. Especially when he and Peter held the map for the adventure she seemed to want so desperately.

Sure, he was glad she had things under control, and he appreciated her experience as a captain. .. But there was no call to be rude. And sure, she was beautiful, but that only covered so many sins. 

This was going to be a long journey indeed. Especially with such an annoying woman at the helm. He hated her . . . Or did he. He couldn't shake the feeling that, made under it all he was actually attracted to the no-nonsense captain.


	7. Loki/Steve Zeus and Ganymede

Once, in the city of Troy there was a prince known throughout the lands for his handsomeness. His name was Steve, and all who gazed upon his broad shoulders, stunning blue eyes, and corn tassel blonde hair were entrance by his beauty. Many were the princesses who hoped to wed the handsome prince. 

Steve was so handsome, that his fame had not failed to make its way to Mount Olympus. There Loki, father of the gods, had decided that he must see for himself this handsome prince. 

When Loki saw Steve, he was overcome with desire for the beautiful mortal. So he transformed himself into an eagle and swooped down Olympus to grab the prince in his talons. Then he returned to Mount Olympus with the handsome young man.

He put Steve to work as his cupbearer. Day in and day out the beautiful blonde was at his beck and call as a servant. One who was faithful and well-loved by the gods, but when no one was looking, Loki would led Steve back to his chambers and have him fulfill a different task entirely.


	8. Bruce/Natasha Shrek

Warning: brief Mentions of murder for hire

Tony heard a strange noise and walked into the mill that Natasha was using as her sleeping quarters. He was surprised to see the redhead was cleaning several weapons.

"What's going on?" Tony asked.

"I'm an assassin," she said.

"What?!?"

"I'm an assassin. I kill people for a living. I have since I was a little girl. I pretend to be sweet and innocent because it helps me get close to my marks, but I've killed dozens of people. And I've gotten well paid for it."

"Well that's . . . Terrifying."

"It should be . . . But lately I feel like I'm not on top of my game. . . I guess I've been compromised," she commented reluctantly.

"Compromised by what?" he pressed.

"I've just been having feelings lately . . "

"Feelings for Bruce?" he asked knowingly.

"No . . .well yes, but it can't happen. I'm an assassin and a monster."

"Why not? You're a terrifying assassin, he's a terrifying green rage monster . . .you're both anti-social and you clearly have a thing for each other," Tony rambled.

"Assassins are supposed to be solitary, single-minded in their purpose, and unfeeling. He makes me feel. He makes me not want to be alone. That compromises me. That's why I can't be with Bruce . . .besides, unfeeling beasts can't love. It just isn't meant to be between Bruce and I . . .besides he hates the part of him that wants to kill .. But that's all I am. He doesn't even realize that I'm just as much of a monster as him. . . If not more so, because I think I might like it."

"I think that's a load of excuses. I think you really like him, maybe even love him, and you shouldn't let any silly notions about what you should or shouldn't be stand in the way," Tony said.

With that he left, and Natasha was alone with her thoughts. She thought about it all night, and eventually decided Tony was right. She would find Bruce and tell him how she felt, so she gathered her weapons and looked for him.

Little did she know that Bruce had gone looking for her the previous night to confess his feelings for her. However, in the process, he had overheard part of the conversation she had with Tony, and misunderstood her meaning. When he had heard her say "mindless beast," he had thought it was a reference to him and Hulk, and the accusation had stung him deeply, so he had wandered into the woods looking for solitude, because Natasha was right about one thing . . .they weren't meant to be.


	9. Gambit/Rogue Princess Bride

Warning: presumed character death

Once upon a time there was a young woman. She had spent her young childhood on a farm, but after a tragedy left her an orphan she left the farm to wander the country side. Her family's only servant, a farm hand, followed her on her journey. 

She couldn't understand why he would follow her. She had enjoyed bossing him around, and treating him like dirt before she had left to wander. And all of that time he never spoke more than three words to her.

"As you wish." It was all he every said. When ever she asked, or better said demanded, something from him, that is how he replied. Even now, as they wandered the countryside together, those were the only words he used.

The young woman wandering so long, people started calling her Rogue, and her hanger-on they called Gambit, because he was frequently seen sacrificing for her. He would give her his cloak when it was cold and shiver himself. He would take on wild animals for her. It was as if he viewed himself a pawn to her queen.

This didn't escape Rogue's notice, nor did the tender way he said those three words, "as you wish." She came to realize he was using them as a substitute for another three words he felt unworthy to say, "I love you."

Moreover, as time passed, she realized that she loved him too, and when she finally told him, they were both overjoyed.

Their happiness was short lived however. Gambit was unwilling to let his Rogue continue to wander all of her life, so he set out to make his fortune, promising to return. He did not return, however. Word soon returned that he had been killed by a family of thieves.

Rogue was heart-broken. She promised never to love again. A promise she kept, even as the prince of the land choose her as his bride-to-be. She did not refuse him, but she did not love him. She would never love anyone but her Gambit.


	10. Harry/Peter Ella Enchanted

"Peter, marry me," Prince Harry Osborne said, holding out a ring toward Peter.

He hadn't meant it as a command, but it wasn't a question. The curse kicked in and Peter felt compelled to say yes, but he couldn't. Not when a simple command could have Peter killing the man he loved. Not when all an enemy to the throne would have to do is figure out Peter's secret to have their vengeance.

"NO!" he cried. "NO! NO! NO!"

Harry looked at him with hurt eyes, not understanding why Peter would refuse, especially so vociferously. He didn't know that Peter's "no's" weren't inspired by Harry or his question at all, they were brought on by the horror show of possible futures running in front of Peter's eyes.

Even as Peter felt sicker and more nauseated by the second as he refused the prince's inadvertent command he continued to cry out "no!" He couldn't let the things he was seeing become reality. Poison mixed into Harry's food, a knife in Peter's hand as he plunged it into Harry's heart, an "accidental" fall from one of the watch tower caused by Peter pushing him, a pillow smothering Harry while he slept. All of these thing could happen at the suggestion of anyone who wished to harm Harry, and Peter would be powerless to refuse. He couldn't let that happen. He loved Harry too much to be his undoing. 

Tears sprung to his eyes as he continued his chant of "no!" He hoped Harry would give up soon. He hoped he would just walk away, because he was starting to feel faint from resisting the curse. Plus he hoped the gnawing ache in his heart would be easier to take when he wasn't looking into the hurt in Harry's beautiful eyes. He hated that he had put that hurt there, but he had no other choice. He closed his eyes tightly against the sight.

"Peter!" a familiar voice cried.

Peter turned toward the voice, but didn't open his eyes. It didn't matter. He could see even with his eyes closes that it was his uncle Ben who had spoken. He must be hallucinating. His uncle was dead.

"Yes, Peter it's me," the apparition said. "Your courage and devotion to your love has broken the curse. No longer will you be compelled to do what you are told. Open your eyes and see."

Peter opened his eyes and saw Harry looking at him in concern.

"So you refuse my offer?" Harry asked broken heartedly.

Peter nodded.

"Are you sure? Peter, be my husband," Harry pleaded.

"No," Peter said easily.

Wait . .. He didn't feel sick. He didn't feel compelled to say yes, and once again Harry had not asked. Peter was overjoyed, but his joy was short lived, because when he turned back to Harry, he saw the prince sadly heading toward the door.

"Wait!" Peter cried.

Harry turned around, his eyes hurt and wet with tears.

"I am sorry, Harry. When I refused before, it was because I needed to know that an issue that could have risked your safety was resolved, because I could never knowingly put you in danger. I can go into no more detail than that, but if you love me, trust me when I say that that was the only reason that I refused, and that I now know that the situation is resolved. Harry, I love you, and nothing would give me more pleasure than to be your husband," he said, hoping he wasn't too late.

Harry looked at him curiously, and then nodded his head.

"You are a good man, Peter. If that's what you say, I trust you," he said evenly.

Then he closed the distance between them, slipped the ring on Peter's finger and kissed him hungrily. Maybe happily ever afters did exist after all.


	11. Clint/Natasha Love Actually

"Here you go, Prime Minister. I brought you chai and Nutter Butters, just like I know you like. Well, like I read you liked in that one article. You know the one where you were wearing that really hot looking blue dress that made you look all curvy and gorgeous?" Clint said as he brought in Natasha's afternoon tea.

She raised one red, perfectly groomed eyebrow at him as he finished his statement.

"Shit! I just called the Primer Minister hot to her face!" he mumbled as he took in her hard facial expression.

"Fuck! Now I said it again and I said shit!" he said hiding his face in his hand.

"Wait . . .did I just say . . ." Clint said turning red as he realized he had made the situation even worse.

"Thank you, for the tea and Nutter Butters," Natasha said evenly, hoping to stop Clint from embarrassing himself further.

"You're welcome, ma'am. And if there's anything you need, just let me know. I do my best to keep an eye out for anyone whose in this office. I watch everything like a hawk, and not a single thing escapes me. There's nothing that I don't see," he said.

Natasha gave him another look.

 

"Not that that's a threat . . . Or that I'm looking when I shouldn't, you know, during private moments, but . . . . Uh . . . . nice to meet you ma'am. I'll be leaving you to your work," he said, bowing and backing out of the door.

He had certainly screwed that up. Sure . . .put a pretty woman in the office, and suddenly he can't think or speak straight simply because he fancied her.

Natasha laughed quietly to herself after Clint left. He was really cute when he was flustered. Maybe in a pathetic way, but it was still very cute. She could tell she was going to like working with him.


	12. Loki/Tony Star Wars

The sky lit up above them and the Death Star exploded in a flash of blinding light. Red streaks filled the sky as pieces of debris burned up in Endor's atmosphere.

Loki stared nervously at the sky, and almost seemed to twitch with nervous energy. Tony touched his hand gently to reassure him.

"I'm sure Thor wasn't on that thing when it blew up," he said reassuringly.

Loki turned clear, green eyes toward the other man.

"I know," he said slowly.

He closed his eyes for a moment and then said, "I can feel it."

Tony felt his heart sink. He loved Loki, and thought that the other man loved him as well. Loki had rescued him from Jabba the Hutt after all, and he had said that he loved him . . But looking at his face right now the expression he had as he spoke about Thor could be described as nothing but pure, unadulterated love.

"You love him, don't you?" Tony asked tightly, trying not to let his disappointment show through.

"Well, yes, of course," Loki said in surprise, studying Tony's face as if to find out what would cause him to ask such a question.

"When he gets back, I won't stand in your way . . . " Tony started.

"It's not like that," Loki said softly. "He's my brother."

Tony's grin at those words could have lit up the galaxy. Loki looked at him, and smiled before he caught his lips in a passionate kiss. No, there was no one for Loki except Tony. He was the one he loved.


	13. Charles/Erik Beauty and the Beast

"Erik, why do I have to wear the dress?" Charles said petulantly as he fluffed his large yellow skirt.

"Because you are the beautiful one, my dear. Everyone knows that of the two of us, I am the beast," his boyfriend drawled.

"You're not a beast, Erik. You're a good man," Charles said, even as a voice in the back of his head told him he would not always think that was so.

He ignored the whisper of destiny, and leaned in to kiss Erik's lips.

"Why do we have to go as Beauty and the Beast anyway?" he pouted as he broke the kiss.

"You're the one who wanted to have the Halloween party, and you're the one who wanted to wear a couples costume. It seemed only fair that I got to pick the costumes, and I've been dying to see you in a big, yellow ball gown since I first met you," Erik dead panned.

"Please tell me we will at least be dancing after you got be all dolled up as a Disney princess," Charles said.

"But of course. I requested that the first song be 'Tale as Old as Time.' I want the chance to hold you tight and dance slow," Erik said, holding out his hand and waiting for his boyfriend to take it so they could join the party.  



	14. Natasha/Steve Jane Austen's Emma

"Miss Romanov, how are you?" Steve asked earnestly, looking for signs of distress on the beautiful redhead's face.

"I am fine. I thought you were in London until Sunday, Mr. Rogers," Natasha remarked.

"I rode home last night when I heard of Mr. Stark's plans to wed Mr. Banner. Apparently they had been engaged all along, but they kept the engagement a secret because Mr. Stark's uncle, Mr. Stane, was sure to disapprove and disinherit him if he learned of his attachment. 

I am so sorry, my dear Miss Romanov. That Mr. Stark is a villain. To flirt with an innocent young lady like yourself when he is already spoken for, it is treacherous, indeed," Steve spoke.

"You need not have returned with such haste. Mr. Stark and myself are merely friends, and have never been more. I am glad that he is able to follow his heart now that his uncle has passed. Everyone should be free to follow their heart. Besides . . . My heart belongs to another," she replied, looking down shyly as she reached the end.

"And who is that, pray tell, Miss Romanov?" Steve asked cautiously.

"I think that you know, that it is no other than you, my dear Mr. Rogers," Natasha answered candidly.

"Natasha, my dear Natasha. I have loved you ever since I first met you when you were sixteen. Please say that you will be mine, and marry me," he replied with just as much candor.

"Nothing would make me happier than to be your wife, my dear Mr. Rogers," she accepted.

"You must now call me Steve, darling, for we are to be married," he said with a smile.

"Yes, of course, Steve. My beloved, one and only, Steve," she breathed.

"However, you must promise me one thing, if you are to be my wife. You must leave behind the foolishness of matchmaking. No wife of mine will be a busybody," he warned.

"I have already done so, my love. I was greatly mistaken with dear Pepper. She is far happier with her beloved Mr. Hogan, even if he is a farmer, than she ever was pursuing Mr. Odinson or Mr. Stark at my advisement. I discovered that I am ill-suited to matchmaking, and have left it behind me," she promised.

"I welcome the news, my dear Natasha. Now let us tell our friends of our news, that they may celebrate with us," he said, leading her back toward the center of town.


	15. Natasha/Steve Anatasia

Natasha packed her bag angrily. She couldn't believe Steve had lied to her! He had drawn her in with his blue eyes and innocent face. When he said she looked like the princess he had helped rescue during the Russian revolution, she believed him. He knew how desperate she was to know she had come from somewhere. That she had family. That the red room hadn't take all of her. He knew! And he used it against her! To believe that She had even started to fall for him! He was the worst of charlatans! Taking advantage of her one weak point!

There was a knock on her door. It was soft and hesitant, and she was sure it could only belong to one person.

"Go away, Steve!" she cried angrily.

The door opened behind her and she turned to take out her frustration on the man she was sure was there, but instead she saw the Empress standing in all her regal glory.

"Oh . . . I thought you were . . " she started.

"I am well aware of what you thought," the woman said regally, if not coldly. "Now, what is it that you want.? The young man was quite insistent that I see you."

"I was raised in a program called the Red Room. They trained me how to be a spy and an assassin. They told me I was all alone in the world, but I always felt like I wasn't alone. Like I had someone out there looking for me. A family. . .and I wanted to know if you were that family," Natasha said honestly.

She was rarely this open. It went against all of her training. But she wanted to leave that training behind. She wanted to love and be loved, not kill to avoid being killed.

"You have quite a tale, and you tell it well, but I've heard enough sob stories to last me a life time. Now if you don't mind . . . " the woman said.

"Jasmine . . . " Natasha whispered as the Empress walked by.

"It's a perfume that I use," she answered almost curtly.

"Yes, I used to borrow it when you visited, and one time I spilled some of it on the carpet in my room. That patch always smelled like jasmine, and I would go and smell it whenever I missed when you were gone, after you left for here, for Paris," Natasha said, a memory suddenly breaking through her Red Room training.

The Empress turned toward her in surprise. She noticed a chain around the redhead's neck and touched it gently.

"What is this, my dear?" she asked.

"It's necklace that I had when I entered the program. I hid it in a crack in the wall so they didn't take it from me . . It's a key . . .a key for . . a music box," she breathed as she started to remember even more.

The woman who she was now sure was her grandmother took out a small jewelry box, and fit the necklace into the side. She wound it and the box opened. Then they both looked from the music box to each other.

"Grandmama!" Natasha cried.

"Natalia! Oh, my dear, Natalia!" the older woman cried.

They cried briefly on each other's shoulders. Then her grandmother pulled back and looked knowingly into her eyes.

"I believe there is someone you need to tell about all of this. A certain young man," she said.

"He's probably thinking of all the ways he can spend the reward money," Natasha said bitterly.

"He refused the money," the Empress said. "On the way here, I asked him why he was so persistent. Was it just the money, because I would give it to him to leave me alone. He said he didn't want the money either way. He said that he only wanted you to be happy. He said you'd had too much taken from you, and it was time you got part of your life back. 

He may not have had pure motives to start with, but he loves you, my child. And even though we've been apart a very long time, I know you well enough still, to know that you love him too. Tell him. Don't lose this piece of happiness. Don't let him get away."

Natasha nodded, and ran out to catch Steve before he left. Could it be that her dreams were coming true?


	16. Jasper/Maria Men in Black

"Agents J and M, please report to sector 551. There are reports of a hostile alien life form. Repeat, Agent J and Agent M, please make you way to sector 551," Fury's voice says over the radio.

"On it," Agent M, also known as Maria to those close to her, says into the radio.

They turn the car to sector 551, and as they approach their destination they notice what looks like a man in a horned helmet carrying a glowing, blue staff.

"Is that what at I think it is?" Agent J, also known as Jasper, asks.

"Yep," his partner replies. "It's an Asgardian."

They climb out the of the car in time to hear the Asgardian pound his scepter on the ground and demand that the crowd in front of him kneel.

"Why do we always get the crazy, megalomaniacal ones?" J grouses.

"Just luck I guess," M replies sarcastically.

"I said KNEEL!" bellows the Asgardian, loosing a beam of energy from his staff at the top of a nearby building, which causes it to explode in a burst of brilliant light.

"Not today Asgardian!" Maria answers.

"The MIB are here," Jasper adds.

They take out their large laser guns and hold them in front of them. Maria moves a step closer and addresses the threat.

"We can do this one of two ways. You can return to Asgard without any persuasion, or . .. " she pauses to cock her gun and then continues matter-of-factly, "we can persuade you to leave."

"You think you can stop me?" the Asgardian snarls.

"We know we can," J says confidently.

"Really? Why is that?" he purrs.

Maria fires a single shot and it hits the stone in the alien's scepter. The blue glow brightens exponentially for a few seconds and then fades to darkness.

"Because now you don't have your little toy to help you. So, are you going to leave quietly, or do we need to make you leave?" she says levelly.

"Curse you! But I will return . . .and with a Destroyer that will wreck havoc on you and your world!" the Asgardian calls angrily.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Maria dismisses.

The Asgardian opens a portal and disappears.

"You got this?" M whispers to her partner.

"Yep," he whispers back.

He walks in front of the crowd and takes out his memory wiper.

"The alien who was just here may have infected you with an alien virus. To test for it I need you to look at this light. Thank you. I'll run the test in three, two, one .. . " Jasper presses the button and a white light floods over the crowd for a second, then they look around blankly, none of them remembering what happened in the last few minutes.

Jasper walks back over to his partner.

"A job well done," she says.

"We're off-duty now," he notes. "Let's go home and celebrate."

So they do.


	17. Harry/Peter Maid in Manhattan

"You're a maid?!?" Harry cried when he saw Peter in his uniform walking through the hotel.

"Hotel housekeeper," Peter corrected.

The word "maid" implied female, and it was degrading. He felt silly correcting him, but at least it gave him something to say.

"And all the suits? All the times you pretended to be some high society socialite?" Harry asked. "What was that? An attempt to gain corporate secrets from me to sell to my competitors and give you a leg up in the world? A chance to sell your story to the tabloids?"

"No, none of that. I would never . . . ." Peter started.

"Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Why should I trust you? You've been lying to me this whole time," Harry accused.

"I didn't mean to. The first time it was an accident. I was trying on a guest's rented suit. That's something that I would never normally do. In fact, that day you saw me was the first time, and then, well . . . I didn't want to get in trouble. I need this job . .. And then . . Well, you liked me. And I liked you. I guess I didn't want it to end, but . . . If you knew I was the person that cleaned the rooms there's no way I would ever be good enough for you. You would never give me a second look, much less consider dating me," Peter tried to explain.

"That's not fair!" Harry declared. "You're assuming I'm so shallow I would never give you a second look if I knew you were a cleaner?"

"Actually, I'm basing it on the time I cleaned your room two weeks ago. You never once looked at my face, or you would have realized that I was the man who you had found so charming in the Armani suit earlier that day," Peter countered.

"That was you? The one that brought extra soaps?" Harry asked in disbelief.

Peter nodded.

"Peter, I owe you an apology. You were right. I just wish I hadn't made you so uncomfortable you felt you couldn't tell me the truth. Will you give me a second chance?" 

"Of course, if you're willing to give me another chance after I lied to you."

"To second chances?"

"To second chances."

And with that, their lips met in a passionate declaration of how they would make their second chance count.


	18. Loki/Thor Snow Queen

Thor and Loki grew up the best of friends. They played together in the snow fields, they build snow men and they chased each other all through their small village. They were never happier than when they were in each other's presence, and as they grew that friendship began to blossom into something more. Neither of them were quite sure what, they were still young and naive, but they knew that something had changed between them.

Things became clearer one faithful day when the pair of them saw something flashing in the sky. Higher and higher it climbed, until suddenly it began to fall.

"Look out Thor!" Loki called, running to protect his dear friend.

Loki pushed Thor out of the way of the falling object, a mirror, but was unable to clear it completely himself. Some of the shards hit him, one embedding itself in his eye, and another making its way to his heart. This was a problem, because the mirror was no ordinary mirror. It was a troll mirror designed to make everything good and beautiful look vile and ugly. A shard in the eye made all that was good look bad, and worse yet, a shard in the heart froze it and made it wicked and cold, incapable of feeling.

"Are you alright my dear Loki?" Thor asked.

"Why would I be anything else, you buffoon? Then again, you always have been an idiot.

Leave me in peace, you oaf. I would much rather be alone than keep company with the likes of you. Now excuse me," Loki snarked.

Then he turned and walked away from his oldest and closest friend, leaving Thor behind, confused and hurt. Never had Loki spoken to him that way before, and to hear it made one thing clear. He loved Loki. He had always loved him. He longed to be with him for the rest of his days, but something had happened, had changed his Loki, and he needed to get his love back.

Convince of this, he ran after his beloved, only to find he had vanished. There was no sign of him anywhere. Feeling defeated, he collapsed into the snow, burying his head in his hands unsure what to do next.

He was about to surrender to his feeling of hopelessness when a crow landed in front of him. It looked him in the eye, and then it spoke!

"He has gone with the Snow Queen. She has taken him to her palace. Follow me and I will take you there," the crow called.

Thor did as the crow said. He ran behind him and followed him across the tundra, across frozen lakes, and to the palace of the Snow Queen.

He wandered through the icy halls, getting more and more lost as he roamed. He hoped to find Loki, but he knew the Queen was cruel and fickle. She often took young men and women as "pets." She played with them for a while to amuse herself, and then when they no longer pleased her she killed them.

He determinedly continued to wander, growing more desperate with each step. He tried to keep his hope up, but with each passing moment he was trying to brace himself to learn that he might never find his love, at least not alive. He had all but given up, when finally, he saw Loki on the other side of one of the clear walls. He ran into the room and wrapped his arms around him, tears springing to his eyes as he held him tight.

"Loki! Oh, dear Loki! I had feared you lost. The Snow Queen is known for her cruelty, and I feared the worst," he sobbed.

"Unhand me, you vile creature! I want nothing to do with you!" Loki yelled, struggling to free himself, but Thor held all the tighter, weeping against his beloved's chest.

His tears streamed down onto Loki, above his cold, frozen heart, and something amazing happened. The love in those tears warmed his frozen heart and thawed it so that it was once again strong, and healthy, and good. It allowed him to feel once more, and when he realize that his beloved Thor was weeping, he began to cry as well.

His tears streamed down his face, and with them they carried the piece of troll mirror, dislodging it from his eye. Once again he could see the world for what it was, and when he looked up at Thor, he couldn't help but be struck by his beauty.

"Thor, my dear Thor, you came for me. You risked much to find me, even though I treated you ill," Loki said, stroking a hand down the face he now was willing to admit that he loved so much.

"My dear Loki, you were not yourself. You did not mean the things that you said. And I could not leave you when I love you so. I needed to find you, because I am not complete without you," Thor said gently.

"I love you, too. Thank you for believing in me," Loki replied fondly.

The pair shared a kiss, and they knew from that day forth their bond would be unbreakable. Then they returned to their village and lived happily ever after.


	19. Bucky/Steve Joy

Steve and Bucky had been best friends from the time they were small children. Wherever Bucky went, Steve was sure to follow. They grew up beside each other, and soon they grew to be more than friends. They became lovers. They became each other's everything. So, when Bucky joined the army, (not that he had much of a choice), Steve did his best to join him, even if that meant volunteering to be an experiment.

Then something strange happened. Steve became "Captain America" and suddenly he was the one doing the leading. He was the one making the plans. He was the one _Bucky_ was following.

The role reversal didn't matter though. They were still together, and that was good enough. It was the two of them, until the end of the line.

Unfortunately, the end of the line came too soon. When Bucky fell, Steve's world had shattered. He'd never known such pain. 

So now, when he realizes that the man in front of him is somehow Bucky. That somehow his best friend, his lover, his everything is standing in front of him, though he thought him long dead, he feels pure, unbridled joy . . .until he started attacking him. Things might be a little more complicated than he thought . . . .


	20. Phil/Fury Love

Warning: Character death

Everything was going wrong. The engines were dying, Loki had escaped, Thor had been dropped from the Helicarrier in the Hulk tank, and Hulk was loose and raging somewhere out there. His plan to bring together the Avengers was failing in extraordinary fashion, but none of that mattered right now. Not when the last thing he had heard over Phil's comm was a distressed cry.

He ran toward the room that had once held the Hulk tank, and consciously reminded his feet not to falter when he saw Phil laying there with blood staining his white shirt as it poured from a wound on his chest. This could not be happening. Phil could not be hurt like this, not when Nick hadn't even told him how he felt about him yet. When he hadn't told him how much he loved him. 

"I'm clocking-out boss," Phil said weakly.

"Not an option," he replied trying to sound authoritative, but letting his fondest shine through.

Pressing his hand against the wound, he tried to stop the flow. He called for medical, and he tried to keep Phil's eye on him, keep him taking, anything. Anything to stop this. But in the end it wasn't enough.

He felt Phil, his beloved Phil, go limp under him. He heard his last breath, felt the last beat of his heart, and something broke inside him. He ran to Phil's locker and grabbed his trading cards. He soaked them in his blood and he ran back to the bridge. 

Some would say he did what he did out of manipulation. That he was unfeeling and calculating, and that he did what he did out of some need for control and power. They couldn't be more wrong.

As he had planned this "Avengers Initiative" there had been many times he wanted to scrap the whole thing. It seemed to risky. The people involved seemed too unstable. He had a new reason why he wanted to let the program go everyday. But Phil, beautiful Phil, had always talked him around. Always told him of the faith that he had in his plan, and then he would hold off on terminating the program. So when he used Phil's death to bring the team together, it was out of love for the man who had fought so hard for them. It was giving meaning to the death of the man he adored the only way he knew how. Because anything less than a hero's death for his beloved was unbearable.


	21. Darcy/Jane Jealousy

Darcy stood to the side watching Jane laugh as she talked to Thor. Her honey brown eyes sparkled as the pair talked, and her musical laugh filled the room. He had returned. After all that time without a single word, he had returned, and his return had brought nothing but danger for Jane and the whole earth. Yet somehow she was fawning over the muscular god as if he were the greatest thing in the universe.

Darcy had been the one who had held things together for Jane after Thor left the first time. Darcy was the one who was there for Jane no matter what, no matter the hour or inconvenience. Darcy was the one who truly loved her, but she was cast aside. When Thor was here, she was forgotten, and Jane only had eyes for him.

 _He'll only break her heart again. He won't put her first. He doesn't love her like I do,_ she thought bitterly as jealousy filled her heart.

Still, Jane was happy, so she would say nothing. She would remain in the shadows, until Thor inevitably left her again. Then she would pick up the pieces. She always did.


	22. Loki/Tony (unrequited) pining

Warning: mentions of action violence

Loki wanted to hate him. The cocky billionaire with self-assured swagger, and his snarky words, and his plastic smile. He wanted to feel the urge to destroy him, because he stood between him and his victory.

When he touched his staff to the engineer's chest, and somehow it didn't work, he wanted to feel disappointed. He wanted to be angry, and although he faked it, his anger was not real. If he had truly been angry he would have killed the mortal on the spot, but instead he threw him through the window. He knew that would allow the genius' tech time to save him, he only hoped that no one else figured out he knew, because it would belie the _fondness_ that the god of mischief was being to develop for the man.

A fondness that was spreading across his chest and briefly had him watching the dazzling streak of red and gold zip across the sky. He found himself hoping that no harm would come to that brilliant flash of metal, and it was strange. It was strange, that he should care if harm came to this mortal. This mortal who dared to defy him. But he did.

He wanted this mortal safe he realized, because that the snarky man had somehow wormed his way into his heart. He was the most perfect creature he had ever laid eyes on, and nothing would give him more joy than to win his affection. A possibility that seemed to be dwindling by the second. He had attacked his planet. He had invaded his home. He had caused this battle, and the beautiful, sassy mortal would never forgive him.

With that heaviness in his heart, he watched as the tides of the battle turned, and his army was defeated. He watched in horror as the object of his affection sacrificed himself for the good of his world, and plummeted lifelessly back to earth, only to be caught at the last second by the giant, green beast. He surrendered to the band of misfit mortals, but he only had eyes for the Man of Iron as he was taken into custody.

Unfortunately, the man he so desired only had eyes for someone else. He watched as the man he so longed to call his own climbed into his car with the beast who hid in a man's body. He watched them drive off together as he was transported back to Asgard, and he knew that the billionaire would never look at him the way he did the beast. He would never care for him that way, but some nights, when it was especially lonely in his prison cell, he would use his magic to look in on his mortal. He would watch him work with the rumpled beast, or watch a movie with the curly-haired man, and he would pretend the love he saw shining in his eyes was for him. He would never give up hope, no matter how hopeless it was. He would never stop pining for his snarky mortal.


	23. Clint/Natasha boredom

Warning: mentions of sexual content

"Clint! Natasha!" Tony yelled as he walked into the kitchen on the Avenger's common floor in the tower.

"What's up, Stark?" Clint asked casually.

"'What's up?' . . . Would you care to explain why it appears that all of the glassware in my lab was used for target practice, why I had to give Hulk a haircut because his hair was pink and Bruce couldn't keep control long enough to do it himself, why I had to bail Thor out of jail because he tried to buy Pop-Tarts in exchange for magic beans and called the store owner a villain and drew his sword on him when he refused, and why Captain America has made his way through ten of the special stronger punching bags I designed in the last hour?" Tony asked angrily.

Natasha shrugged and simply said, "We were bored."

"There's not much to do around here, and we're going a little stir crazy," Clint added.

"Didn't I build you a state-of-the art shooting range? Couldn't you have used that? And when you got tired of that, couldn't you just have sex or something?" Tony asked desperately.

"The shooting range is great, but it got boring after a while . . . And we did the sex thing too . . . You're bed's really nice, Stark," Clint commented.

"You . . You didn't . . You had . . . In my bed?!?" Tony spluttered.

Natasha winked at him.

"JARVIS, send my bed to the love birds' apartment. Oh, and anything else in my room that they touched while they were naked. Replace it all," Tony instructed.

"Awesome! Nat, let's have sex in that chair that you really liked," Clint said with a mischievous smirk as they ran out of the room.

Tony sighed. In all his careful planning for Avengers' Tower, he hadn't accounted for bored assassins. He had a feeling he was going to be paying for that oversight for a long time to come.


	24. Clint/Phil longing

Warning: Character death (prior to the story)

Seventeen days, three hours, twenty minutes. That was how long it had been since his world had shattered. That was how long it had been since he found out his husband, his Phil, was dead.

Seventeen days, and it hadn't gotten any easier. Each morning he was still surprised that Phil wasn't beside him when he awoke. Each night his empty side of the bed was like a stab to Clint's heart.

He missed Phil so much it hurt. Every breath he took burned, because it was another reminder that he was still living while his husband was gone. It seemed so wrong. He had been sure he would die first. He was the assassin. He was the one on the frontline. Still, fate had had other plans.

He took one of Phil's suits out of their closet and buried his nose in the fabric. His scent lingered on the fabric, but it was fading. 

Clint found himself crying again, as he longed for the comfort of his husband's arms. He longed to hold the other man close, and talk about all the stupid things that had happened to him that day. He longed to see the amusement in Phil's eyes as he patiently waited out Clint's verbose complaints about everything. Most of all, he just longed for Phil's silent, steadying presence by his side. A presence he would never experience again.


	25. Thor/Loki hate

The future king. The mighty warrior. The perfect son. He who could do no wrong. The fantasy of all the maidens, and the envy of all the young men. That was who Loki's older brother was. That was the shadow that overpowered him and relegated him to the status of "the other brother."

No one cared that he was clever. No one cared that he could talk down even the fiercest of warriors with his silver tongue. No one was impressed by his skill with the magic arts. He was cast aside as the lesser brother. The consolation prize for his mother and all those who failed to get his brother's attention.

The only one who seemed truly impressed by him was Thor himself. Thor would talk endlessly about Loki's skill and intelligence. He would praise his silver tongue and cunning. But even that did little, because instead of listening to what Thor said and acknowledging Loki, they all fawned over Thor all the more, praising his humility and willingness to share the spotlight. It made Loki get angry, and he couldn't help but wonder if Thor did it on purpose.

In truth, Thor's intentions mattered little. Though his words were true, and he loved his brother dearly, none of that could undo the damage caused by all of the other things that had happened. None of it could undo the slights and neglect Loki had experienced. And none of it could stop the all-consuming hate that Loki harbored for his "perfect" brother.


	26. Darcy/Natasha mischievous

Natasha raised her eyes from her book and looked pointedly at Tony and then at Darcy across the room. Darcy nodded and made some indistinct gesture with her magazine and then looked back over at Tony. Natasha smirked and met her gaze.

"What?" Tony asked, growing nervous with the way they kept looking at him.

"Nothing," they said simultaneously, but they exchanged a knowing look.

"What?!?" he asked again, his voice frustrated.

"We would tell you, Stark . . ." Natasha started.

"If there was anything to tell," Darcy finished.

They exchanged another knowing glance and intentionally returned their attention to their reading material.

"You're up to something," Tony said. "I know it."

The women made a show out of ignoring him as they continued to read, turning pages with flourish and shifting slightly so they were turned away from him.

"I'm out of here. I don't want to be around when whatever you two have planned goes down," Tony commented, leaving the room abruptly.

As soon as the billionaire was out of earshot the woman laughed loudly, mischievous grins plastered to their faces.

"Are you two taunting Tony again?" Bruce asked, as he walked into the living with a mug of tea.

The barely contained glee on their faces gave him his answer.

"Sometimes I wish Jane had never introduced you two to one another. You're far too mischievous for your own good," Bruce sighed. "And to think I used to think that Tony was a handful. He's got nothing on you two when you're together. Please, I beg you, play nice. I have to work with him in the lab after you wind him up."

"Sure thing, doc," Darcy said, giving him a mock salute.

"We'd hate to make you angry," Natasha commented evenly.

Bruce sighed. While he was happy that Natasha and Darcy were happy, he was definitely seeking revenge against Jane somehow. She was the reason the chaos twins had joined.


	27. Bruce/Clint/Natasha gratitude

When the Hulk had first appeared Bruce had been sure his life as he knew it was over. Never would he have the things he had always longed for. A home, stability, love and family, those were things for normal people, not for monsters. Not for beasts like him.

He had believed he would spend the rest of his life wandering homeless and without ties, until he met them. Until the sassy redhead and spunky archer told him they wanted him. That they saw him, and they didn't see a monster, but a man, a man they wanted to love. A man they wanted to make a part of their family.

He turns over in bed and looks at their faces bathed in moonlight. Natasha's face looks beautiful, and almost soft, nestled against her pillow and surrounded by the halo of her red hair as she sleeps. Beside her Clint snores with his mouth hanging open, but still manages to look handsome. 

They took him in. They loved him when he thought that no one ever could. They gave him back his life by letting him _live_ again instead of just survive. He became theirs, and they became his, and he could never let them know just how much love and gratitude he felt towards them for that. Not even if he spent his whole life trying, and he intended to do just that.


	28. Charles/Erik anguish

Sometimes, when things were quiet, and he was alone Charles would think back to that faithful day. The day the man he loved had betrayed him. The day he'd been injured, but more than that, the day Erik had broken his heart.

Before then he had never thought it possible. He had never thought that his love could reject him for any reason, but he had been wrong. Erik had turned his back on him that day, and to this day the memory filled him with anguish.


	29. Bucky/Steve homesickness

"Do you ever miss it?" Bucky says, looking out of the window of their apartment. "The old neighborhood?"

On a certain level, it might be a strange question. He and Steve live in an apartment only a block away from the apartment they lived in before the war. They're still in Brooklyn. The streets are still called by the same names. Many of the buildings are still the same ones that stood there when they were kids. Yet it feels foreign to him.

"Technically we're in the old neighborhood," Steve deflects.

"You know what I mean, Stevie," the other man replies.

Steve sighs and nods.

"I do," he admits.

"Do you ever get over it? The homesickness?" he asks earnestly.

Technically he's experienced more of the modern world than Steve, but until recently it was through the haze of brainwashing. Now that he's back to himself, he feels lost, and he's relying on Steve as a sort of guide since Steve has been coming to terms with this longer than he has.

"Not really. You just learn to cope with it . . .it's just strange. Missing a home that's right there and yet unreachable all at once," Steve explains.

Bucky nods.

"But you being here helps. It means I don't have to go through it alone . . .and neither do you," Steve says gently, wrapping his arms around the other man.


	30. Maria Hill/Nick Fury regret

Some days she wonders why she did. Why she fought her way through the ranks and became the perfect agent. Why she gave up any chance of having a personal life, something that wasn't government regimented and cloaked in secrecy.

She knows why she did. She did it to be close to him. To get his attention. She basked in his praise, and under his guidance she had worked her way all the way up to be his righthand woman, his number two. He trusts her implicitly, and relies on her more than either of the would ever admit. She's appreciated and needed, and that should feel good, but it doesn't.

She knows she's invaluable to Fury, but in the process of making herself noticed, she became nothing more than an agent to him. She's an agent that he respects over all others, but she's no longer a person to him, and certainly not a woman. He see her more like an useful tool or machine. Something precise and calculating, but unfeeling and impersonal. That had been her mistake. 

She he wanted his attention, but she had also wanted him to want her the way she wanted him. She respected him as a Director, and a leader, but she also saw him as a man. A very attractive man at that. When the work day was over, she wanted something more personal, but she had destroyed any chance she had of ever getting that when she had become a well-oiled, reliable foot soldier for his cause. He would never she her as anything more than that, and that filled her with regret.


	31. Natasha/Pepper amusement

Pepper was used to being the responsible one in a relationship. Her many years as assistant to Tony Stark, and brief stint as his girlfriend, had taught her how to wheedle, cajole and manipulate someone into doing what they needed to do, (or at least should do). By this point, it was almost second nature for her.

Natasha was independent woman, she always had been. Her fierce self-reliance had grown out of necessity. It had been the only way to survive as a young girl in the Red Room. She did things her own way, and rarely consulted anyone else; it was how she lived her life.

When the two fiery redheads had meet, sparks had flown and attraction had been instant. They couldn't explain it, but they felt an undeniable pull to the other that they could neither fight nor desired to resist. Before long they started dating, and only then did they realize how strangely their ways of life would fit together.

Natasha smirked as Pepper rushed around reminding her of things, and generally acting like a mother hen. She wasn't Tony. She wasn't about to forget. She'd was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Yet she found it endearing and amusing anyway.

Pepper smiled to herself when Natasha took initiative and took care of her. It was a nice change, but she could never fully accept it. She always thought of one more thing she should do, but Natasha always told her she needed to calm down, and fixed her with a no-nonsense glare that closely mirrored the one Pepper herself used on Tony all the time. Maybe she was the Tony of their relationship . . .the thought filled her with endless amusement, and she hid her smile each time she saw that look on Natasha's face.

Maybe they shouldn't work, but somehow they did. Somehow Pepper made Natasha more affection, and Natasha made Pepper relax, and they just fit.

Plus, together they could take down Tony Stark with a pair of eyebrow raises, thus making life easier for all of the residents of Avengers' Tower. That fact wasn't lost on anyone, and they were all quite grateful and amused by the situation. Well . . . .everyone except Tony was.


	32. Clint/Phil Contentment

Warning: Mentioned presumed character death, depression, and implied suicidal ideation

Clint gently rested his head against Phil's chest as his husband slept, filled with contentment just to be close to him. Not so long ago, he thought that he would never be able to do this again. He had thought he would never hold his husband in his arms or be held by him again. He thought he could never find comfort in sleeping next to him, or return home to find him waiting with a smile on his face. He'd thought that his husband was dead.

Just three weeks ago, Fury had told him that Loki had stolen the most previous thing in his life, and he'd been faced with the anguish of moving on alone, without his Phil. He hadn't felt up to the task, and each day had been agony. A painful reminder of just how much he missed and needed his husband. He hadn't been sure how he would survive, and had been ready to give up. He knew it wouldn't be what Phil would want for him, but he didn't know how he could go on.

He'd gone home with a heavy heart, only to find Phil waiting for him there just like it was any other day. Just when it had seemed darkest, Phil was there to bring him back into the light, and he couldn't help but marvel at that. Just like he couldn't help but consider every beat of Phil's heart that he heard as he lay there as a small miracle. Somehow his crumbling world had set itself right, and he was able to make peace with the world once more.


	33. Darcy/Natasha /Pepper Hilarity

None of them are quite sure how it started. The evening had been normal enough. They had made their way home from the lab, the office and some classified location to share dinner, as they did whenever their busy schedules allowed. The food had been good, and they had enjoyed wine and conversation while they ate.

When the meal was over they decided to watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. They had all been busy lately, so they hadn't had much time for each other. Especially not where all three of them were present. It seemed prudent to take advantage of their time together.

Darcy had brought the bottle of wine into the living room with them, and they had continued to drink as the movie started. They tried to get into the movie, but it just couldn't seem to grab their interest, and soon they were all making out and ignoring it entirely. 

That in and of itself was not strange. They weren't shy about their affection for each other. Where things got weird was when somehow they all ended up stripped to their bras and underwear and someone got the bright idea of hitting Natasha with a pillow. 

Natasha was not one to take any attack, even one with a pillow, lightly. She grabbed one of the couch cushions and returned the assault, and soon an all out pillow war broke out. Stuffing was flying and the three of them scurried around the room trying to get a tactical advantage over the others, lost in the battle.

"Whoa!" Tony said as he walked into the room, his eyes wide but sparkling as he took in the sight in front of him. "So girls really do have pillow fights in their underwear . . .and here I thought that was all some made up male fantasy . . . Don't get me wrong . . .it's insanely hot . . . I just . . "

"Not another word, Stark," Natasha warned, a deadly look on her face.

"And not a word of this to anyone else," Darcy warned, a less threatening, but still not entirely unterrifying look on her face.

"Pep, your girlfriends are mean, and a bit of a drag," Tony whined.

"I'd listen to them, Tony. And I'd probably get out of here before they get any meaner," Pepper advised.

"Fine, fine, I'll leave you to your naked pillow fight, and I promise I won't tell anyone else, even if Barton's head would probably explode if I told him, which would be hilarious, but whatever, I'll leave you in peace, and the pillows, which are mine by the way, in pieces," he said backing out of the room.

As soon as he left, the women looked at each other and realized just how ridiculous they looked. They broke down into fits of laughter, wondering how they had gotten into this situation. Oh well, no matter, the results were hilarious and well worth it as they made their way to their bedroom, still giggling and in high spirits from their strange night.


	34. Bruce/Pepper grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **warning: character death**

Warning: Character death

Bruce and Pepper stood close together as they watched the coffin be lowered into the ground. Neither of them could really wrap their head around what was happening. It seemed wrong, wrong in a way they couldn't even voice.

Tony had always been the life of the party. He had been like a radiant sun that pulled others into his orbit. That's what he had done to them. He'd brought them into his life. Even if they had wanted to, not that they ever had, they wouldn't have been able to escape. Once you were Tony's, you were his for life. 

Tony had been their best friend. He had cared for them, sheltered them and done his best to show them how much he cared. Furthermore, he'd let them in. He trusted them, and that was no small thing. Tony didn't trust many people, so they had been in an elite club.

They saw the real Tony, and they couldn't help but love him for it. Under the bravado and the public persona he was kind, and sweet, and generous. He was the type of man who would do anything for a friend. He'd even gone so far as to encourage a relationship between the two of them. 

He saw the way they looked at each other, and set them up without a hint of jealousy. He never seemed concerned that he would become a third wheel, or that it would be weird that Bruce was dating his ex-girlfriend. He just pushed them together, because he knew that would make them happy, and he had been right.

"Ashes to ashes. Dust to Dust . . . ." 

The words of the preacher brought them back to the present, to the impossible scene in front of them. To the harsh reality of having to say good-bye.

A shovelful of dirt fell on the top of the polished coffin, and Pepper broke down into sobs. Bruce wrapped an arm around her, and tried to comfort her, but there were tears sitting in his eyes as well. She buried her head in his shoulder, and he held her closer. 

The disbelief was wearing off, and they were both struck with a tidal wave of grief. Tony was gone. It wasn't a nightmare. They weren't going to wake up and find him laughing, and goading them into something they both knew they shouldn't do, but would do anyway because Tony had asked them to. They would never see his eyes light up with mischief again. They would never spend a quiet evening just the three of them, watching movies or eating dinner. He was gone, and they were left to go on.


	35. Clint/Natasha "breaking up"

It was strange, waking up to an empty bed. Clint often slept alone while on ops, but then he usually slept on the ground, or on a roof, or wherever was needed to keep an eye on his target. That he was used to, but when he was home, when he actually had a bed to sleep in, it had meant that Natasha was by his side. Now that she wasn't, his bed, his home, everything really, seemed wrong.

Natasha had told him that it was nothing personal, they had just drifted apart. She told him that they had both changed, and they were no longer compatible. Then she had left. That was it. As if it were simple for her. Maybe it was. Maybe she reasoned that they were no longer a good match and left without any further emotion or regret. It was possible. 

All Clint knew was that for him this wasn't a clean break. He had spent years trying to avoid getting attached to people. After all he had been through, how many times he had been betrayed, he decided detachment was the best course. No one could hurt you if you didn't care enough about them to care what they did. It was cold, but it worked. Well, it worked until he was asked to take down a KGB spy, and he couldn't. He couldn't explain it, but he felt connected to her, and he couldn't bring himself to kill her.

After that, the pair had become inseparable. First in training, then in the field, and finally as a couple. Both had gone out of their way to avoid dating. It was messy, and complicated, and not for people who lived lives like theirs. At least so they told themselves, even as they began a relationship anyway. Despite Natasha's protests that "love was for children," Clint grew to love her anyway, and that had been a mistake. It had been a horrible error in judgement, because now he was alone, and he felt broken.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing from its spot on the nightstand. He wearily reached over for it, and checked the ID. Natasha.

"Natasha?" he said levelly, even as his heart raced in his chest, (did she realize this was a mistake? Did she want him back?)

"Hey, Fury has a mission for us. Can you be at headquarters within the hour?" she said brusquely, all business.

"Sure," he answered, feeling slightly crestfallen.

Not only had she not called to get back together, now he would have to work with her after the mess that was their break up. Well, maybe better said, after the mess _he_ had turned into after their break up.

Some of that disappointment must have made its way into his voice, because she added, "Is working together going to be a problem for you?"

"Look Nat, we were colleagues before we were dating. I think I can go back to that arrangement just fine," he lied.

"Alright. As long as we don't have a problem. It sounds like we might be together for a while for this one," she said with a slight warning edge to her voice.

"It'll be fine. I'll be there soon," he reassured before ending the call.

He looked down at his phone and sighed. It wasn't fine, but he would have to pretend it was. Fury wasn't going to let him out of this just because he broke up with Natasha. Especially after he had all but ordered them not to get involved with each other in the first place. 

He could do this. He _would_ do this. A break up couldn't break him . . . Could it?


	36. Tony/Steve post-reactor removal

Steve finds it ridiculous that such a small thing throws him. Especially after all the changes he's been through. He woke up in a new century where things that seemed like they had come out of a science fiction novel were common place. Even before that he had some strange serum injected into his body and went from being small and sickly to being stronger, healthier, and taller in a matter of minutes. Compared to those things, this should be nothing; but it's not. Not to him.

It's not really that he had a problem with Tony's decision. He supported his choice. He understands. Living with shrapnel in your chest, with a constant threat to your survival inside of you, is no way to live. Removing it only made sense. Removing the arc reactor made sense. But he can't help but feel that Tony removed a part of himself. Something that made him who he is as much as his technological genius or his snarky attitude. 

Steve knew it wasn't fair for him to miss it. Not when it had caused Tony pain whenever he got the slightest bit sick. Not when it had almost poisoned him. Not when it had left him so vulnerable. The arc reactor had been a great accomplishment. A true testimony to Tony's genius. Yet it had caused him pain, and it had made him feel weak. Steve knew that, and he knew he shouldn't miss it, but he did.

He knew that for Tony, the reactor brought up memories of caves and torture, of being betrayed by a man who he had thought of like a father and left to die, and of being slowly poisoned by the very thing designed to keep him alive. He didn't blame Tony for not wanting to carry those memories around in his chest. But for him, the reactor meant something completely different. 

For Steve, the arc reactor had meant trust. It reminded him of when Tony had looked into his eyes with his face full of acharacteristic sincerity, and told him about Afghanistan. He answered Steve's questions without hiding, and then he had showed him the constant reminder that he had literally carried near his heart. That had been when Steve knew that Tony truly loved him. He never would have been so open or vulnerable with him for any other reason.

When Steve thought about the arc reactor, he thought of all the nights he had seen Tony come apart beneath him with his face lit by nothing but its soft blue glow. He had always looked so stunning in those moments. 

Even with all of those memories, Steve would be willing to let go and leave the past to the past without regret, if not for one thing. One thing that had caused his blood to run cold on too many occasions. One thing that was keeping him awake right now, when he should be asleep, and that was the far too complete darkness of his bedroom.

He wasn't afraid of the dark. Well, not the darkness itself, but what his mind thought it meant. Whenever he awoke to a dark bedroom, his heart started to race painfully as he turned to the left bracing himself for what he knew would be the horror of gazing on his lifeless boyfriend. He tried to prepare himself for the sight of a broken, dark reactor that was no longer doing its job, that had let the man he loved die, but each time he was surprised. Each time he looked over and saw Tony sleeping peacefully, and felt relief course through him as he remembered that the reactor was gone, but Tony was fine. Then he would roll onto his back and contemplate the change until he drifted off to sleep, only to repeat it all over again the following night. 

He would get used to it. It was just another change. Just another adjustment, like the internet, or microwaves, or cellphones. He would adjust. . . At least he hoped he would.


	37. Clint/Natasha pregnancy

Clint and Natasha had survived yet another death-defying mission, so they celebrated it as they often did; on the bed, on the chair, in the shower and up against the wall. If they were honest, that was the majority of their relationship, "we survived" sex. Not that either of them were complaining, the sex was always amazing, and it was nice to know they had each other's back in the field. That was enough.

Well, that was enough for Natasha, but Clint secretly always wanted more. He wanted Natasha to stay after the adrenaline from the mission, and the endorphins from what followed, wore off. He wanted her to choose to be with him, even when they weren't risking their lives. He wanted quiet days and shared moments outside of work. In other words, he wanted a life with her, so he was thrilled when she showed up on his doorstep one day while they were on furlough. It was an unprecedented move for her.

"Natasha," he said as levelly as he could, trying to keep the excitement from his voice.

"Clint," she said brusquely. "I came here to let you know that I'm pregnant. We must not have been careful enough after our last mission."

"What?!?" he cried in surprise . . .that was wonderful, but before he got the chance to say so, she spoke up.

"I thought that might be your response. I'm going to go take care of it. I just wanted you to know," she said calmly, but he swore he saw a flash of hurt in her eyes.

"What?!? No, Tasha. I think it's great. . . I mean . . . It's your choice, but I would be there. I want to be a dad, and I will support you through this, if that's what you want to do," he rushed to explain.

She smiled weakly, and admitted, "I don't know what I want to do. Being a spy, it's what I know, but I can't do that if I'm pregnant. I'd need to take some time off, at least for a while, and I wouldn't know what to do with myself. . . . Then again. . . .

I can't help but imagine what life _could_ be like if I had this baby. I didn't think I ever wanted to be a mother, but, I think I might want this. Is that crazy? Is it just hormones talking? Could I even be a good mother? With all I've done? With all the red in my ledger?" 

"Nat, it's not crazy. You'd be a good mother. You can have this. _We_ can have this," he reassured.

She hugged him and nodded against his shoulder. He held her tight, and startled as he realized there were small wet patched forming on fabric of his shirt. He'd never seen Natasha cry, okay, he had, but not for real. He'd only see her cry on a job, in order to make her seem more vulnerable to a mark, but that was an act. There, in that moment, she was clinging to him and crying real tears, and he wasn't quite sure what to do, except hold her a little closer.

\------------------------

_4 months later_

Clint was seriously beginning to reconsider whether asking Natasha to move in with him was a good idea. Sure, it made it easier for him to help, and he felt like they were actually partners in this, but she was driving him crazy!  
The crying should have been a red flag, but he had ignored it, and now he was stuck with a very hormonal Black Widow, and that was never a good thing. (Honestly, some days he wondered if she might just eat him like her namesake did to the father of its children).

"Did you get the groceries?" she called from the next room.

"Yes," he called back from the kitchen where he was putting them away.

"Great," she said brightly as she walked into the room and grabbed a jar of peanut butter, a jar of mustard and some pickles from one of the bags.

"Making a sandwich?" he asked, offering her the bread.

She hummed and shook her head as she grabbed a spoon and container of peach yogurt. Then she dumped the condiments into the container, and stirred it up. Clint felt his stomach turn as he looked at the mixture, but Natasha seemed happy, so he kept his mouth shut.

She waltzed into the other room, sat on the couch, and began digging into her new food creation. She had taken one or two bites when she stormed into the kitchen.

"What is the meaning of this?!?" she stormed with a face like thunder as she waved the jar of peanut butter in front of his face.

"What?" he asked cautiously, (he's certainly learned his lesson about seeming dismissive or defensive with a pregnant Nat).

"This is crunchy peanut butter! You know I only like the creamy kind!" she accused.

He reached into the bag in front of him and pulled out a jar of creamy peanut butter.

"Oh. . . This was for you . . . I'm sorry," she said as her eyes began to well up.

Not again! He reached out to hug her, hoping she wouldn't be in the mood to kill him within the next few seconds. He wasn't sure how much longer he could do this. One thing was sure. This baby couldn't come fast enough!

\-----------------------------

_4 more months later_

Clint paced in the hall outside of the delivery room. He had wanted to be there, but Natasha hadn't been very happy with him, and when she said she was going to kill him, well, she might just mean it. So he'd decided to give her some space when she asked for it.

He heard a wail for in the delivery room and waited expectantly.

"It's boy," a nurse said jubilantly as she walked into the hallway. "They're both fine. Why don't you come see your son?"

Clint followed her cautiously back into the room. Natasha looked exhausted, but he'd never seen her look so happy. Then he looked down into her arms, and he saw him. . . His son . . . For the first time.

He was a wrinkled pink ball with fine, light-colored hair, but to Clint he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in the world, (and he would gladly put an arrow through the eye socket of anyone who dared to disagree).

"Nat, he's beautiful," he breathed reverently.

She nodded and looked up at him with a smile, "Can you believe he's ours?"

He shook his head in disbelief and softly kissed both the baby and then Natasha on the forehead in turn.

"No, but I'm glad he is," he answered, feeling that he might just be the luckiest man in the world.


End file.
